flankshttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/taxonomy/term/10801/%252Ffeed
enBig Scrap in Big Skyhttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/moonlight-basin/2004/09/big-scrap-in-big-sky?lnk=rss&loc=flanks
<p>When moonlight basin opened its doors in 2003, skiers at neighboring Big Sky Resort knew they were onto something good. Positioned on two flanks of 11,166-foot Lone Mountain, the resorts had a sort of open-door policy: Big Sky skiers could drop into the Moonlight side of the peak and return by way of the Iron Horse lift; Moonlight skiers could hitch a ride on Big Sky's Challenger lift. Best of all, you could ski between the resorts with just one pass. <br />Then things got ugly. Last February, Big Sky's owner, Boyne USA Resorts, filed suit against Moonlight Basin in Montana's Fifth Judicial District Court. "The lawsuit," says Big Sky's general manager, Taylor Middleton, "is ultimately about trespass." Big Sky has brought forth 19 allegations that it considers tresspass violations. The most sensational accusation-juicy enough to make the front page of The Wall Street Journal-involves the positioning of Moonlight's Avalauncher, an avalanche-control gun that fires two-pound charges up to a mile. Big Sky contends that the Avalauncher, which is aimed at Lone Mountain's Headwater Bowl, could overshoot the Headwater ridge and endanger its work crews. Moonlight CEO Burt Mills insists that the Avalauncher is fixed by a "limiter" that restricts shots to hundreds of yards below the ridge. "We don't have an overshot problem," he says.<br /> Why the petty squabbling? The real issue, say some locals, is real estate. Both resorts are sinking millions into vacation-home developments-which may be at the core of the dispute. "Real estate is getting in the way of a pure skiing experience," says Neil Hetherington, a part-time instructor at Big Sky. "It's childish." <br /> Until the legal wrestling ends-something neither side expects to happen soon-skiers will need two passes to ski all of Lone Mountain. "We are competitors," says Big Sky's Middleton, "and we will compete." </p>
http://www.skinet.com/skiing/moonlight-basin/2004/09/big-scrap-in-big-sky#commentsavalanchebig sky resortflanksmoonlight basinskiersskiing11198http://www.skinet.com/skiing/http://www.skinet.com/skiing/Adventure<p>When moonlight basin opened its doors in 2003, skiers at neighboring Big Sky Resort knew they were onto something good. Positioned on two flanks of 11,166-foot Lone Mountain, the resorts had a sort of open-door policy: Big Sky skiers could drop into the Moonlight side of the peak and return by way of the Iron Horse lift; Moonlight skiers could hitch a ride on Big Sky's Challenger lift. Best of all, you could ski between the resorts with just one pass. <br />Then things got ugly. Last February, Big Sky's owner, Boyne USA Resorts, filed suit against Moonlight Basin in Montana's Fifth Judicial District Court. "The lawsuit," says Big Sky's general manager, Taylor Middleton, "is ultimately about trespass." Big Sky has brought forth 19 allegations that it considers tresspass violations. The most sensational accusation-juicy enough to make the front page of The Wall Street Journal-involves the positioning of Moonlight's Avalauncher, an avalanche-control gun that fires two-pound charges up to a mile. Big Sky contends that the Avalauncher, which is aimed at Lone Mountain's Headwater Bowl, could overshoot the Headwater ridge and endanger its work crews. Moonlight CEO Burt Mills insists that the Avalauncher is fixed by a "limiter" that restricts shots to hundreds of yards below the ridge. "We don't have an overshot problem," he says.<br /> Why the petty squabbling? The real issue, say some locals, is real estate. Both resorts are sinking millions into vacation-home developments-which may be at the core of the dispute. "Real estate is getting in the way of a pure skiing experience," says Neil Hetherington, a part-time instructor at Big Sky. "It's childish." <br /> Until the legal wrestling ends-something neither side expects to happen soon-skiers will need two passes to ski all of Lone Mountain. "We are competitors," says Big Sky's Middleton, "and we will compete." </p>
articleWed, 15 Sep 2004 09:15:00 +0000SkiNet Editor11198 at http://www.skinet.com/skiingMount Adams, WAhttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/flat-expanse/2004/09/mount-adams-wa?lnk=rss&loc=flanks
<p> Beta:Among the massive, stand-alone peaks that line the Pacific Northwest's Cascade Range, Washington's 12,276-foot Mount Adams isn't the biggest (14,410-foot Mount Rainier has that distinction), the most popular (Mount Hood sees the most climbers annually), or even the most famous (Mount St. Helens grabbed worldwide headlines for blowing its top in 1980). But none of these other active volcanoes offers this perk to ski mountaineers: an uninterrupted, 7,000-plus-foot skiable line reached via a crevasse-free summit route your mother-in-law could handle. Skiers who top out on the peak in late spring and early summer can take advantage of a daily freeze-thaw phenomenon that turns the top layer of Adams' 450 annual inches of Cascade concrete into the most perfectly kernelled corn west of Iowa. Add to this the fact that Adams' flanks are protected from crowds by a snowed-in access road, and it's pretty clear why Pacific Northwest skiers have done very little to promote one of the region's best ski-mountaineering treasures.<br /><br /><B>The Route:</b> The south side of Adams offers a non-technical skin over a series of snowfields leading 7,000 feet to the summit. After hiking the last section of snowpacked Forest Road 8040500, make camp where South Climb Trail 183 begins. Rise early—a 4 a.m.—6 a.m. start is recommended—and follow Trail 183 to the foot of Crescent Glacier, where you'll bear left and ascend along the glacier's left side until you reach a flat expanse called the Lunch Counter. Fuel up while sitting on the rocks, and then skin up (you might need crampons) the 2,700-foot incline leading to the false summit (a.k.a. Pikers Peak). From there, the route to the true summit is impossible to miss—it's the football field—wide ramp up the bigger peak in front of you. <br /><br /><B>The Descent:</b> The 600 vertical feet between the summit and Pikers Peak can be a wind-scoured, sun-cupped mess—just make survival turns up there. Once you reach the false summit, however, there are two enticing options: Bomb down the way you came up, carving a perfect 25- to 30-degree fall line for 2,700 feet to the Lunch Counter; or head slightly to the southwest, where a series of chutes drop 4,000 feet from Pikers Peak at a sustained 40-degree pitch. If you take the latter option, simply traverse left at the bottom of the chutes back to the climbing route. The remaining descent via both routes is a roller coaster of varying terrain full of short, steep shots.<br /><br /><B>Safety:</b>If you take the south route, you can get away with minimal technical skills (the ability to self-arrest) and climbing gear (an ice ax and crampons). Still, Adams offers plenty of danger. Storms arrive quickly in the Cascades and can envelop peaks, making route-finding nearly impossible. Leave a series of wands along your route up (plugging each one into your GPS as a waypoint) so you can get back down. <br /><br /><B>Other Info:</b> The website for the Gifford Pinchot National Forest (fs.fed.us.gpnf) covers road closures, snow conditions, and route details. Between June 1 and September 30, a $15 Cascade Volcano Pass is required for every team member ($10 on weekdays). For a guided trip contact the Northwest Mountain School (509-548-5823; mountainschool.net) or the American Alpine Institute (360-671-1505; aai.cc).
</p><p>
</p>http://www.skinet.com/skiing/flat-expanse/2004/09/mount-adams-wa#commentscascade rangecrevasseflanksmount hoodpacific northwestskiing11207http://www.skinet.com/skiing/files/skinetimages/skiing/content/images/Mar04/bigMoutains0304/SKG0304bmbt.jpg52309Break Your Lift Addiction 0304
Five hundred feet into a 7,000 foot climb. Skier Eric "Franz Hagerman leaving Cold Springs camp behind on Mount Shasta.
http://www.skinet.com/skiing/Adventure<p> Beta:Among the massive, stand-alone peaks that line the Pacific Northwest's Cascade Range, Washington's 12,276-foot Mount Adams isn't the biggest (14,410-foot Mount Rainier has that distinction), the most popular (Mount Hood sees the most climbers annually), or even the most famous (Mount St. Helens grabbed worldwide headlines for blowing its top in 1980). But none of these other active volcanoes offers this perk to ski mountaineers: an uninterrupted, 7,000-plus-foot skiable line reached via a crevasse-free summit route your mother-in-law could handle. Skiers who top out on the peak in late spring and early summer can take advantage of a daily freeze-thaw phenomenon that turns the top layer of Adams' 450 annual inches of Cascade concrete into the most perfectly kernelled corn west of Iowa. Add to this the fact that Adams' flanks are protected from crowds by a snowed-in access road, and it's pretty clear why Pacific Northwest skiers have done very little to promote one of the region's best ski-mountaineering treasures.<br /><br /><B>The Route:</b> The south side of Adams offers a non-technical skin over a series of snowfields leading 7,000 feet to the summit. After hiking the last section of snowpacked Forest Road 8040500, make camp where South Climb Trail 183 begins. Rise early—a 4 a.m.—6 a.m. start is recommended—and follow Trail 183 to the foot of Crescent Glacier, where you'll bear left and ascend along the glacier's left side until you reach a flat expanse called the Lunch Counter. Fuel up while sitting on the rocks, and then skin up (you might need crampons) the 2,700-foot incline leading to the false summit (a.k.a. Pikers Peak). From there, the route to the true summit is impossible to miss—it's the football field—wide ramp up the bigger peak in front of you. <br /><br /><B>The Descent:</b> The 600 vertical feet between the summit and Pikers Peak can be a wind-scoured, sun-cupped mess—just make survival turns up there. Once you reach the false summit, however, there are two enticing options: Bomb down the way you came up, carving a perfect 25- to 30-degree fall line for 2,700 feet to the Lunch Counter; or head slightly to the southwest, where a series of chutes drop 4,000 feet from Pikers Peak at a sustained 40-degree pitch. If you take the latter option, simply traverse left at the bottom of the chutes back to the climbing route. The remaining descent via both routes is a roller coaster of varying terrain full of short, steep shots.<br /><br /><B>Safety:</b>If you take the south route, you can get away with minimal technical skills (the ability to self-arrest) and climbing gear (an ice ax and crampons). Still, Adams offers plenty of danger. Storms arrive quickly in the Cascades and can envelop peaks, making route-finding nearly impossible. Leave a series of wands along your route up (plugging each one into your GPS as a waypoint) so you can get back down. <br /><br /><B>Other Info:</b> The website for the Gifford Pinchot National Forest (fs.fed.us.gpnf) covers road closures, snow conditions, and route details. Between June 1 and September 30, a $15 Cascade Volcano Pass is required for every team member ($10 on weekdays). For a guided trip contact the Northwest Mountain School (509-548-5823; mountainschool.net) or the American Alpine Institute (360-671-1505; aai.cc).
</p><p>
</p>articleWed, 15 Sep 2004 09:15:00 +0000SkiNet Editor11207 at http://www.skinet.com/skiingThe Rule of Firstshttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/gear/skis/2003/08/the-rule-of-firsts?lnk=rss&loc=flanks
<p>Riding the Palmer quad last August, watching the country's best ski racers arc turn after turn on the flanks of Mount Hood, I saw a kid who was clearly tired. He was late, straight, barely making his gates. Then he rocked back on his tails, careened hard left, and barreled from snow to sulfur. His skis stopped; he didn't. He tumbled helmet over boots for about 20 feet into a rust-brown rock field: a near-perfect double-eject tomahawk.In true teenage form, he got up, slammed the one remaining pole in his hand against an igneous chunk, and trudged off to collect his gear.I saw all this before I had laid ski to snow for my first turns of the season. Among skiing's firsts—first chair, first descent, first tracks—the pre-eminent first is first turns. The confusion (are these the right socks?) begets the alien (have my skis always felt so heavy?), which gives way to the exciting (damn, this is fast!). It's not as easy to find snow in September as it is in January, but it's out there—Mount Hood, Blackcomb, South America. And terrain can be limited, but who's ready for top-to-bottom runs at Jackson before Halloween, anyway? No matter what the vertical, when you glide off your first chair of the season, you'll feel that familiar adrenaline buzz that you just don't get chasing a golf ball.I expected my first run of the year would be reminiscent of last season's bliss: effortless carving, warm wind in my face, thrilling speed. But I had forgotten the laws of The Hood: The snow at 6:30 a.m. is steel-plate firm, the pitch is deceptively steep, and there are rocks. Acres of 'em. And despite harboring the soul of a teenager, I am well beyond adolescence. When I fall, parts break.I skied those first runs like I dance to reggae—all the moves, none of the rhythm. Eventually, I managed to lock into a decent arc, snapping my skis across the fall line as my eyes chased the pitch. I'd gotten my groove back, which paid off some weeks later when I hit big mountains and big snow.Even better yet, on the chairlift in early December, when other skiers asked, "So, is this your first day out? I had the trump answer: "Naw. I've got a few days in already. You?—Perkins Miller</p>
http://www.skinet.com/skiing/gear/skis/2003/08/the-rule-of-firsts#commentsblackcombblissfirst descentflanksmount hoodrustSki Helmetski racingski socksskisSkisskiing12151http://www.skinet.com/skiing/http://www.skinet.com/skiing/First Tracks<p>Riding the Palmer quad last August, watching the country's best ski racers arc turn after turn on the flanks of Mount Hood, I saw a kid who was clearly tired. He was late, straight, barely making his gates. Then he rocked back on his tails, careened hard left, and barreled from snow to sulfur. His skis stopped; he didn't. He tumbled helmet over boots for about 20 feet into a rust-brown rock field: a near-perfect double-eject tomahawk.In true teenage form, he got up, slammed the one remaining pole in his hand against an igneous chunk, and trudged off to collect his gear.I saw all this before I had laid ski to snow for my first turns of the season. Among skiing's firsts—first chair, first descent, first tracks—the pre-eminent first is first turns. The confusion (are these the right socks?) begets the alien (have my skis always felt so heavy?), which gives way to the exciting (damn, this is fast!). It's not as easy to find snow in September as it is in January, but it's out there—Mount Hood, Blackcomb, South America. And terrain can be limited, but who's ready for top-to-bottom runs at Jackson before Halloween, anyway? No matter what the vertical, when you glide off your first chair of the season, you'll feel that familiar adrenaline buzz that you just don't get chasing a golf ball.I expected my first run of the year would be reminiscent of last season's bliss: effortless carving, warm wind in my face, thrilling speed. But I had forgotten the laws of The Hood: The snow at 6:30 a.m. is steel-plate firm, the pitch is deceptively steep, and there are rocks. Acres of 'em. And despite harboring the soul of a teenager, I am well beyond adolescence. When I fall, parts break.I skied those first runs like I dance to reggae—all the moves, none of the rhythm. Eventually, I managed to lock into a decent arc, snapping my skis across the fall line as my eyes chased the pitch. I'd gotten my groove back, which paid off some weeks later when I hit big mountains and big snow.Even better yet, on the chairlift in early December, when other skiers asked, "So, is this your first day out? I had the trump answer: "Naw. I've got a few days in already. You?—Perkins Miller</p>
articleWed, 20 Aug 2003 09:40:00 +0000SkiNet Editor12151 at http://www.skinet.com/skiingThe Rule of Firstshttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/gear/skis/2003/08/the-rule-of-firsts-0?lnk=rss&loc=flanks
<p>Riding the palmer quad last august, watching the country's best ski racers arc turn after turn on the flanks of Mount Hood, I saw a kid who was clearly tired. He was late, straight, barely making his gates. Then he rocked back on his tails, careened hard left, and barreled from snow to sulfur. His skis stopped; he didn't. He tumbled helmet over boots for about 20 feet into a rust-brown rock field: a near-perfect double-eject tomahawk.</p><P>In true teenage form, he got up, slammed the one remaining pole in his hand against an igneous chunk, and trudged off to collect his gear.</p><P>I saw all this before I had laid ski to snow for my first turns of the season. </p><P>Among skiing's firsts—first chair, first descent, first tracks—the pre-eminent first is first turns. The confusion (are these the right socks?) begets the alien (have my skis always felt so heavy?), which gives way to the exciting (damn, this is fast!). </p><P>It's not as easy to find snow in September as it is in January, but it's out there—Mount Hood, Blackcomb, South America. And terrain can be limited, but who's ready for top-to-bottom runs at Jackson before Halloween, anyway? No matter what the vertical, when you glide off your first chair of the season, you'll feel that familiar adrenaline buzz that you just don't get chasing a golf ball.</p><P>I expected my first run of the year would be reminiscent of last season's bliss: effortless carving, warm wind in my face, thrilling speed. But I had forgotten the laws of The Hood: The snow at 6:30 a.m. is steel-plate firm, the pitch is deceptively steep, and there are rocks. Acres of 'em. And despite harboring the soul of a teenager, I am well beyond adolescence. When I fall, parts break.</p><P>I skied those first runs like I dance to reggae—all the moves, none of the rhythm. Eventually, I managed to lock into a decent arc, snapping my skis across the fall line as my eyes chased the pitch. I'd gotten my groove back, which paid off some weeks later when I hit big mountains and big snow.</p><P>Even better yet, on the chairlift in early December, when other skiers asked, "So, is this your first day out? I had the trump answer: "Naw. I've got a few days in already. You?</p>
<div class="field field-type-nodereference field-field-related-content">
<div class="field-items">
<div class="field-item odd">
<a href="/skiing/alpine-skis/2002/11/alternative-winter">Alternative Winter</a> </div>
<div class="field-item even">
<a href="/skiing/2002/12/nieve-rosada">Nieve Rosada</a> </div>
<div class="field-item odd">
<a href="/skiing/2002/11/new-blood-in-the-new-territories">New Blood in the New Territories</a> </div>
</div>
</div>
http://www.skinet.com/skiing/gear/skis/2003/08/the-rule-of-firsts-0#commentsblackcombblissfirst descentflanksmount hoodrustSki Helmetski racingski socksskisSkisskiing12152http://www.skinet.com/skiing/files/skinetimages/skiing/content/images/Sept03/FirstTurns0903/SKG0903ftlt.jpg52009First Tracks 0903http://www.skinet.com/skiing/First Tracks<p>Riding the palmer quad last august, watching the country's best ski racers arc turn after turn on the flanks of Mount Hood, I saw a kid who was clearly tired. He was late, straight, barely making his gates. Then he rocked back on his tails, careened hard left, and barreled from snow to sulfur. His skis stopped; he didn't. He tumbled helmet over boots for about 20 feet into a rust-brown rock field: a near-perfect double-eject tomahawk.</p><P>In true teenage form, he got up, slammed the one remaining pole in his hand against an igneous chunk, and trudged off to collect his gear.</p><P>I saw all this before I had laid ski to snow for my first turns of the season. </p><P>Among skiing's firsts—first chair, first descent, first tracks—the pre-eminent first is first turns. The confusion (are these the right socks?) begets the alien (have my skis always felt so heavy?), which gives way to the exciting (damn, this is fast!). </p><P>It's not as easy to find snow in September as it is in January, but it's out there—Mount Hood, Blackcomb, South America. And terrain can be limited, but who's ready for top-to-bottom runs at Jackson before Halloween, anyway? No matter what the vertical, when you glide off your first chair of the season, you'll feel that familiar adrenaline buzz that you just don't get chasing a golf ball.</p><P>I expected my first run of the year would be reminiscent of last season's bliss: effortless carving, warm wind in my face, thrilling speed. But I had forgotten the laws of The Hood: The snow at 6:30 a.m. is steel-plate firm, the pitch is deceptively steep, and there are rocks. Acres of 'em. And despite harboring the soul of a teenager, I am well beyond adolescence. When I fall, parts break.</p><P>I skied those first runs like I dance to reggae—all the moves, none of the rhythm. Eventually, I managed to lock into a decent arc, snapping my skis across the fall line as my eyes chased the pitch. I'd gotten my groove back, which paid off some weeks later when I hit big mountains and big snow.</p><P>Even better yet, on the chairlift in early December, when other skiers asked, "So, is this your first day out? I had the trump answer: "Naw. I've got a few days in already. You?</p>
<div class="field field-type-nodereference field-field-related-content">
<div class="field-items">
<div class="field-item odd">
<a href="/skiing/alpine-skis/2002/11/alternative-winter">Alternative Winter</a> </div>
<div class="field-item even">
<a href="/skiing/2002/12/nieve-rosada">Nieve Rosada</a> </div>
<div class="field-item odd">
<a href="/skiing/2002/11/new-blood-in-the-new-territories">New Blood in the New Territories</a> </div>
</div>
</div>
articleWed, 20 Aug 2003 09:40:00 +0000SkiNet Editor12152 at http://www.skinet.com/skiingInside Line: A-Basin, COhttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/resorts/2002/09/inside-line-a-basin-co?lnk=rss&loc=flanks
<p>A-Basin is a small area with a big-mountain feel, set on the jagged western slope of the Continental Divide, high enough to hold snow until July.</p>
<p><strong>Elevation: 13,050 feet Vertical: 2,270 feet acres: 490 snowfall: 324 inches (at 10,820') Getting There: Take I-70 west from Denver to Silverthorne, to Highway 6 east (68 miles). Info: 970-468-0718, arapahoebasin.com</strong></p>
<p><strong>Beta:</strong> A-Basin is a small area with a big-mountain feel, set on the jagged western slope of the Continental Divide, half above tree line, and high enough to hold snow until July. Here local devotees rack up 150 days a year on five chairs. Most stick to just one chair: Pallavicini, an old double that's strung up 1,300 vertical feet of 40-degree bumps, spines, trees, and rocky dropoffs. In spring, when most areas close up shop, the soul of skiing comes to play here. The patch of ground between the parking lot and the A-frame lodge is dubbed The Beach. The scene-kegs, Hawaiian shirts, loose dogs, Frisbees-grows as the season dwindles and the temps rise.</p>
<p><strong>Powder Day</strong><br />Scream down the wide-open <strong>Spine</strong>, where the wind blows the snow into a powdery cream. Work your way skier's left through <strong>1st, 2nd</strong>, and <strong>3rd Alleys</strong>-narrow tree shots farther down the ridge. Next hit 46-degree <strong>Gauthier</strong>. After lunch, launch the lip into <strong>West Wall</strong> off the Lenawee lift, an open, mellow slope that's often forgotten on big days.</p>
<p><strong>3 Days Later</strong><br />Head for the <strong>East Wall</strong> on the face of Lenawee Peak. Because patrol sometimes takes days to open its wide flanks, it could be a whole new powder day. Start with a 30-minute hike up the ridge to the <strong>North Pole</strong>. Then ride patrol's coattails along the <strong>East Wall Traverse</strong>, boot-packing up to make big GS turns in <strong>Willie's Wide</strong> or jump-turns in <strong>Corner Chute</strong>.</p>
<p><strong>Spring day</strong><br />Because A-Basin is so high, spring feels like winter and summer feels like spring; sometimes close to 10 feet of snow falls in March and April. Hit the East Wall for powder in the a.m., anything off Pali for slush bumps at midday, and <strong>North Glade</strong> for afternoon corn.</p>
<p><strong>The Riding</strong><br />A-Basin is a vertical place-there are few if any flat spots here. Avoid traversing too far along the Pali ridge or you'll end up on the whoop-de-doos of the <strong>Pali Wog</strong> runout. The East Wall Traverse can also be a bear.</p>
<p><strong>Proving Grounds</strong><br /><span style="color: red;">Marquee route:</span> It's more like marquee chair. Pallavicini.<br /> <span style="color: red;">Off-Broadway:</span> Catch mandatory air in the craggy entrance to West Turbo, an hourglass chute that veers skier's left off Turbo and pinches to a six-foot tree-lined slot.</p>
<p><strong>Back-country Access</strong><br />There's one gate here, near the Lenawee patrol shack. Call the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (970-668-0600) for conditions-the terrain can be killer, literally. If it's a green light, play in the 800-acre expanse of above-tree line <strong>Montezuma Bowl</strong>. Or ski <strong>The Beavers</strong>, north-facing chutes that drop into low-angle glades and finish with a half-hour hike back to the highway. Stick out a thumb to get back to the base.</p>
<p><strong>Drinking &amp; Dancing</strong><br /> Chug cheap beer at the base on the 6th Alley's huge deck. Later head five minutes down the road to Keystone for live rock at the Snake River Saloon (970-468-2788), where fire-breathing bartenders-the fire department certifies them in pyrotechnics-blow flaming 151 shots at the ceiling. Then it's Pabst-fueled Foosball at The Goat (970-513-9344).</p>
<p><strong>Fuel</strong><br />At the base, chow a Skier's Breakfast (potatoes, eggs, biscuits and gravy, bacon) and kick-start with java from the Psychic Bean (also in the lodge). For burgers, nachos, and steaks, try Keystone's Kickapoo Tavern (970-468-4601).</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p><strong>Digs</strong><br />The closest crash pad is the Super 8-style Guesthouse International Arapahoe in Keystone ($109-$129; guesthousearapahoe.com). There's also the Ski Tip Lodge, a one-time stage coach stop, complete with hot tubs, apple strudel, and American quilts ($120 and up; skitiplodge.coom).</p>
<p><strong>Must-know</strong><br /> On March 1, enter A-Basin's notorious Cardboard Box Derby. A-Team vans, cereal bowls, Noah's arks, churches with eight-foot steeples-as long as you and your vessel cross the finish line intact, you get a prize.</p>
<p><strong>Essential Gear</strong><br /> If you can't afford a tow-along hot tub (some can) for the Beach, make do with a lawn chair and portable grill (try weber.com). Get the meat marinating, take a few laps, call it a day.</p>
<div class="field field-type-nodereference field-field-related-content">
<div class="field-items">
<div class="field-item odd">
<a href="/skiing/resorts/2002/10/the-inside-line-big-mountain-mt">The Inside Line: Big Mountain, MT</a> </div>
<div class="field-item even">
<a href="/skiing/resorts/2002/10/the-inside-line-sierra-at-tahoe-ca">THE INSIDE LINE: Sierra at Tahoe, CA</a> </div>
<div class="field-item odd">
<a href="/skiing/resorts/2002/09/the-inside-line-mammoth-ca">THE INSIDE LINE: Mammoth, CA</a> </div>
</div>
</div>
http://www.skinet.com/skiing/resorts/2002/09/inside-line-a-basin-co#commentsResortscontinental dividedevoteesflanksminute hikenorth gladeslushspring skiingskiing13107http://www.skinet.com/skiing/files/skinetimages/skiing/content/images/skg0203_abasinc_s.jpg51788The Inside Line: A-Basinhttp://www.skinet.com/skiing/A look at the highest mountain on the Continental Divide<p>A-Basin is a small area with a big-mountain feel, set on the jagged western slope of the Continental Divide, high enough to hold snow until July.</p>
<p><strong>Elevation: 13,050 feet Vertical: 2,270 feet acres: 490 snowfall: 324 inches (at 10,820') Getting There: Take I-70 west from Denver to Silverthorne, to Highway 6 east (68 miles). Info: 970-468-0718, arapahoebasin.com</strong></p>
<p><strong>Beta:</strong> A-Basin is a small area with a big-mountain feel, set on the jagged western slope of the Continental Divide, half above tree line, and high enough to hold snow until July. Here local devotees rack up 150 days a year on five chairs. Most stick to just one chair: Pallavicini, an old double that's strung up 1,300 vertical feet of 40-degree bumps, spines, trees, and rocky dropoffs. In spring, when most areas close up shop, the soul of skiing comes to play here. The patch of ground between the parking lot and the A-frame lodge is dubbed The Beach. The scene-kegs, Hawaiian shirts, loose dogs, Frisbees-grows as the season dwindles and the temps rise.</p>
<p><strong>Powder Day</strong><br />Scream down the wide-open <strong>Spine</strong>, where the wind blows the snow into a powdery cream. Work your way skier's left through <strong>1st, 2nd</strong>, and <strong>3rd Alleys</strong>-narrow tree shots farther down the ridge. Next hit 46-degree <strong>Gauthier</strong>. After lunch, launch the lip into <strong>West Wall</strong> off the Lenawee lift, an open, mellow slope that's often forgotten on big days.</p>
<p><strong>3 Days Later</strong><br />Head for the <strong>East Wall</strong> on the face of Lenawee Peak. Because patrol sometimes takes days to open its wide flanks, it could be a whole new powder day. Start with a 30-minute hike up the ridge to the <strong>North Pole</strong>. Then ride patrol's coattails along the <strong>East Wall Traverse</strong>, boot-packing up to make big GS turns in <strong>Willie's Wide</strong> or jump-turns in <strong>Corner Chute</strong>.</p>
<p><strong>Spring day</strong><br />Because A-Basin is so high, spring feels like winter and summer feels like spring; sometimes close to 10 feet of snow falls in March and April. Hit the East Wall for powder in the a.m., anything off Pali for slush bumps at midday, and <strong>North Glade</strong> for afternoon corn.</p>
<p><strong>The Riding</strong><br />A-Basin is a vertical place-there are few if any flat spots here. Avoid traversing too far along the Pali ridge or you'll end up on the whoop-de-doos of the <strong>Pali Wog</strong> runout. The East Wall Traverse can also be a bear.</p>
<p><strong>Proving Grounds</strong><br /><span style="color: red;">Marquee route:</span> It's more like marquee chair. Pallavicini.<br /> <span style="color: red;">Off-Broadway:</span> Catch mandatory air in the craggy entrance to West Turbo, an hourglass chute that veers skier's left off Turbo and pinches to a six-foot tree-lined slot.</p>
<p><strong>Back-country Access</strong><br />There's one gate here, near the Lenawee patrol shack. Call the Colorado Avalanche Information Center (970-668-0600) for conditions-the terrain can be killer, literally. If it's a green light, play in the 800-acre expanse of above-tree line <strong>Montezuma Bowl</strong>. Or ski <strong>The Beavers</strong>, north-facing chutes that drop into low-angle glades and finish with a half-hour hike back to the highway. Stick out a thumb to get back to the base.</p>
<p><strong>Drinking &amp; Dancing</strong><br /> Chug cheap beer at the base on the 6th Alley's huge deck. Later head five minutes down the road to Keystone for live rock at the Snake River Saloon (970-468-2788), where fire-breathing bartenders-the fire department certifies them in pyrotechnics-blow flaming 151 shots at the ceiling. Then it's Pabst-fueled Foosball at The Goat (970-513-9344).</p>
<p><strong>Fuel</strong><br />At the base, chow a Skier's Breakfast (potatoes, eggs, biscuits and gravy, bacon) and kick-start with java from the Psychic Bean (also in the lodge). For burgers, nachos, and steaks, try Keystone's Kickapoo Tavern (970-468-4601).</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p><strong>Digs</strong><br />The closest crash pad is the Super 8-style Guesthouse International Arapahoe in Keystone ($109-$129; guesthousearapahoe.com). There's also the Ski Tip Lodge, a one-time stage coach stop, complete with hot tubs, apple strudel, and American quilts ($120 and up; skitiplodge.coom).</p>
<p><strong>Must-know</strong><br /> On March 1, enter A-Basin's notorious Cardboard Box Derby. A-Team vans, cereal bowls, Noah's arks, churches with eight-foot steeples-as long as you and your vessel cross the finish line intact, you get a prize.</p>
<p><strong>Essential Gear</strong><br /> If you can't afford a tow-along hot tub (some can) for the Beach, make do with a lawn chair and portable grill (try weber.com). Get the meat marinating, take a few laps, call it a day.</p>
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articleMon, 23 Sep 2002 00:00:00 +0000SkiNet Editor13107 at http://www.skinet.com/skiing